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and he nodded toward the red-haired man—" may serve to
remedy. And-----"

"A case of impetigo/' the red-haired man added, "and
peculiarly stubborn."

"Vulgarly known," the Professor continued, "as the coun-
try leprosy. But not Biblical, I rejoice to state----- But, as I

was about to say, it is a privilege to shake your hand, if I may
say so. A young man who does credit to his community. A
privilege for an old man who is about to go from the stage
of action to greet the rising Roscius."

" Thank you, sir," Mr. Munn said. " It is my privilege,"
The Professor couldn't be very old, he noticed, not much
more than sixty. His hair was not grey, and there was
scarcely any grey in his scraggly, red-brown beard which
sprang in tangled tufts from the bony chin and cheeks, like
vegetation that hardily finds-a foothold on an arid and rocky
hillside. The left hand, he also noticed, was bandaged like
the right

Mr. Christian introduced him to the lanky, red-haired
man. That was Doctor MacDonald, the son-in-law of Pro-
fessor Ball, and, he added, a native of Louisiana but by way
of being an adopted Kentuckian.

" Yes, sir, an adopted Kentuckian," the Professor repeated.
" A good woman wiU do a lot for a man, now. They've saved
some from the curse of the bottle. They've led some to the
light of salvation. And my daughter Cordelia—as I may
remark with pardonable paternal pride—has almost made a
Kentuckian out of Doctor MacDonald."

" Now that's a fact," Doctor MacDonald agreed, laughing.
He laughed easily and softly, easily'like a man who finds the
world hung together right and himself at home in it, and
softly like a man who finds part of his pleasure always in the
privacy of himself. " A fact, now," he repeated, letting his
lanky frame fold back in the big rocking chair, and laying
his long, sinewy hands on his knees.

I wonder what they're doing here, Mr. Munn thought
They hadn't'just happened in, apparently, for Lucille Chris-